


A Dragon's Tale

by Jazzy_Kandra



Series: The Dragonic Symphony [1]
Category: Tales of Berseria, Tales of Zestiria
Genre: The others seraphim are briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-28 05:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15701019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzy_Kandra/pseuds/Jazzy_Kandra
Summary: The seraphim had always assumed that a seraph lost their sense of self when they became a dragon…but there is one problem with that assumption, no seraph had ever become a dragon and lived to tell the tale.Or basically, the story where Eizen realizes that yes, even his luck can go from bad to worse.





	A Dragon's Tale

It happened in a flash. Consumed by malevolence as soon as the shot from Siegfried slammed into the current Lord of Calamity, Eizen felt pain in every inch of his being, flame and poison and a sudden sense of twisted pride, the kind of malevolence this Lord of Calamity had spread and devoured throughout the world. If he had a voice, he would’ve screamed in pain as the hellion fell dead and he was consumed by malevolence, but this weaponization of broken bonds—first, his curse and second, his bond with Maotelus—had been his idea. His _choice_. They had needed a way to kill the hellion after the Shepherd had died, he simply found one… Zaveid and the others might hate his choice, but he would rather chose when he died, just as he had choose how he lived. Eizen wouldn’t have it any other way.

A man who did not have his hand on the wheel had no control of his ship or his destiny.

At least, that had been the plan. But unexpectedly, the pain from the transformation subsided. The malevolence still resided within him, but his mind was not overwhelmed. His sense of self remained in place…but _detached_ from his body, removed from the world beyond a distant sense of self. Now covered in scales from head to toe, he had become a dragon, a monster, the scorch of man. The beast released a mighty roar, bellowing throughout the battlefield, echoing through the desolate basin where Rolance and Hyland always fought their foolish war.

The dragon would bring judgment. The dragon would consume these men and their commanders whom had wage this war. Its stomach growled, and the earth trembled. As the men screamed, Eizen joined them. He _hadn’t_ wanted this: to know the beast he had become, to exist like this for the rest of his days, watching himself consume and devour, his body and instincts controlled by the malevolence within him.

As he devoured the forces of men, he prayed that Zaveid would give him a swift end.

 

* * *

 

Zaveid did not come. It had been well-over a century, probably, and there was still no sign of the Oathkeeper despite his true name.

Eizen would gorge on that man for this slight, tear apart his body apart and devour it piece by piece. Toes and fingers first, next his limbs and his member, then, finally, he would eat him up, savoring the taste of that betrayer’s flesh on his fork tongue.

 _That’s the dragon talking. I am_ not _a monster. I don’t devour my friends._

 _Is it really a friend?_ It wasn’t quite a question, it was the anger of the beast shaped into a thought by his own mind. The only companion he had now, and a horrible companion at that. _It deceived us._

_I know._

_It betrayed us._

_Yes,_ he agreed. _Zaveid’s a bastard._

 _We should eat it._ The need to devour, for a moment, was almost an all-consuming emotion, nearly swallowing himself as well. One day, he might be consumed by it, eaten up like he had done to so many seraphim and humans. Today, however, the feeling faded. Eizen would not lose himself right now. His sanity was all he had left.

 _Sleep,_ he suggested. This time, the dragon _listened,_ it rarely did these days. He had been surprised at first, but at times, when the needs and instincts of the beasts were less, he could prompt it, gently, to do as he pleased. This ability didn’t always work, but that was how he had come to roost on Rayfalke Spiritcrest, the Earthpulse point which had given him birth. The sacred mountain, one humans, long ago, had worshipped as a slumbering god. This was also how he prevented it from eating Edna, even when she dared to come near to them.

Like she was doing now.

He more sensed her mana and the power of her domain than saw her. The dragon had control of their senses, for the most part. He could hear the whispers of the wind, but not the wind itself. He felt the texture of the earth beneath the dragon’s claws but, like a man wearing thick mittens, he could only feel a shadow of it. He smelled the blood of their last meal on their tongue, but distant and remote, like a soldier on a battlefield covered with corpses. He could sense its flavor too, but only as a faint aftertaste. It was like living in a room of fogged glass, a prison in his own mind distanced from reality, trapped by scales, crawls, and wings that would never release him.

Edna, however, did come, sitting near enough that he could make her out, yellow dress, flowers in her hair. She sat on a boulder and conversed with the dragon. She had never been afraid of him, even as a dragon.  Eizen tried to hear her voice, but heard nothing but a distant hum, a bunch of words without meaning. The dryness was there, the anger, too. He deserved that. But he couldn’t hear the words. He _longed_ to hear her shout at him. To yell at him. To tell him that he was a horrible brother. Thus, even with her so near, he felt alone…like a seraph on a ship with no one who could see him.

Inside, he growled, gnashing his teeth. Begged Maotelus—that dumb, selfish kid—to let him at least hear what his sister had to say.

But he received no answer, not that he was expecting one. The boy didn’t care, at least not for a seraph-turned-dragon, no matter who they had been to him. What could ‘god’ do to for someone who had doomed himself?

The dragon roared, reacting to the onslaught of frustration, crashing a claw against the mountain. In that moment, he saw things with a frightening clarity. Edna stood up, a screech escaping her lips, but she ran, jumping off the side of the mountain to escape his wraith.

He had never attacked Edna before. And now, he felt its urge to devour her too. He had been consumed by the dragon, completely.

 

* * *

 

By the time the dragon found the Shepherd and the human encroaching on its domain, Eizen was little more than a flicker, a memory of a seraph. The best he could do was hold back its claws, tell it not to devour Edna, the Shepherd, or his seraphim. The dragon begged these might end him, hoped that when Edna returned, the Shepherd would be strong enough to destroy the monster he had become.

The monster who tried to devour any who dared to come to his mountain.

For a time, none dared. He was forced to forage far to find men to eat and hellions to devour. But, when at last he sensed the Shepherd on the mountain, the dragon swooped down, tearing at him and his red-headed squire. Both dodged his claws and magic, and then, two seraphim—one of earth, one of wind—coalesced briefly beside them then armatized, the earth seraph with the Shepherd, the wind seraph with the squire.

The dragon grinned, displaying a mouth full of jagged teeth. He had long desired to devour these two seraphim. To eat them for the pain that they had caused him, to take revenge for the hurt they had wrought. He did not remember why, he just remembered it was personal. With a mighty spell that rocked the earth beneath the armatized humans’ feet, the battle commenced.

For the dragon, there was no strategy, just claws, flight and powerful bites. Instincts and anger, magic and mana, no thought, no tactics, only frenzy and rage. The dragon knew why these people had come. He did not want to die. He slammed its tale against the armatized squire, knocking her unconscious and the last seraph who had been in reserve fell down as well. The Shepherd yelled then, leaping through the air on earth-strengthened legs, and throwing a punch at his skull.

Something cracked. _Bones_ , his mind supplied. _Fractured, not broken._

Lucidity flowed through him sudden and sharp, his mind snapping back in place. He saw the Shepherd and _Edna_ before him, dodging a weak attack that he throw their way. The dragon could, even wanted to, keep fighting. To end them. To eat them. To devour his sister and her friends.

He would not allow that. Eizen harnessed the dragon.

A part of him smiled, she would be safe with them. Protected. Happy. Edna did not need him anymore, she had found her own ship, it seemed.

He lowered his head.

They meant his gaze. He saw pain, anger, sadness, and, perhaps, understanding in their eyes.

The next fist came more powerful than the last, breaking his skull and smashing his brain. The fierce pain, he welcomed. The darkness, too, was inviting. “Goodbye, Edna,” said Eizen as his dragonic form began to disappear, his mana would soon disperse back into the earth that had given birth to him. He wasn’t sure she could hear him, but he spoke anyway. “Take your time, little sister. Don’t hurry.”

 _Don’t you dare_.

Eizen turned and left the world of man behind, docking his ship in the dark harbor south of the moon and west of the sun.  

 

* * *

 

 

Edna heard nothing but a roar of pain as the dragon faded, its mana purified and the malevolence cleansed after that grueling fight. She had hoped for a different outcome, some kind of secret way to purify a dragon that Lailah had not revealed to them. After all, the fire seraph still couldn’t discuss the art of purification thanks to her stupid. But, it hadn’t happened. The rest of her had known it wouldn’t.

She closed her eyes, blinking back tears. She had already mourned him. She’d been mourning him for years. It was time, as he would say, for her to plot her own course, to wish him well on his twilight voyage.

She’d always hated the stupid ship metaphors. Edna cried anyways.

“I think I finally understand,” she said, lowering her umbrella and clipping it shut. The first stars appeared above the peaks of the mountains beyond the summit of Rayfalke Spiritcrest, a small cloud floating between them, shaped like a ship setting sail. For a moment, she imagined it was his ship, a new one made to sail the stars, a gift from Maotelus to an old friend... Her brother wasn’t dead, Ufemew Wexub had just found new seas to explore once more. He would be happy there. “I’m sorry it took me so long, Eizen.”

 _I just wanted to see you again,_ she thought, an echo of what she had said before.   _But I’ll take my time, older brother. Don’t worry. I’ll try._

 

* * *

 

you may have heard a sorry tale

that i am gone, have kicked the pail

hark not the lies, believe not these

i’ve just gone sailing on diff’rent seas

**Author's Note:**

> Breaking bonds is powerful magic (see Zestiria). Yes, Zaveid didn't tell anyone the complete truth.
> 
> Some of the other things mentioned here, such as the bond Eizen has with Maotelus, are hints for a different story (that I plan to write) exploring the events that lead up to his death in full. Also, while this ends on a sad/bittersweet note (depending if you believe in an afterlife for Desolation or not), I won't say its the actual ending to these siblings (at least in my headcanon) sometimes weird things happen, you know...


End file.
